Monthly Archive

E and I have two fireplaces in our house - one in the living room and one in the basement. They are regular, wood-burning fireplaces. Except the last couple times we tried to burn wood in them, they made the house a little smoky. Oops.

We have an appointment with chimney cleaning/repair people so we can find out what the problem is. The appointment isn’t until mid-February. Meanwhile (said in the Superfriends narrator voice), we are having some friends over in early February. We want the fireplace in the basement to work so people don’t have to walk around with boots and mittens on.

E convinced himself that the smokiness from earlier wood-burning attempts was because the wood was too green/new. So we bought some of those wood composite logs that are supposed to burn hot and clean. And decided to try one out last night.

This is where the genius part comes in…I tell him to get a bucket of water or something in case it starts to get smoky, we can throw the burning log into the bucket of water to douse it and take it outside immediately. He gets a bucket of snow. Snow = water, right? I grab a pitcher of water - just in case.

So he lights the log and it’s burning all nicely with only minimal smoke (should have been first clue) in the basement. After the paper part burns, there is no more smoke coming out of the fireplace, and the log is burning nicely. Making a lovely crackling noise that I agreed was romantic even though I secretly didn’t think so. After about 15 minutes, the flames on the log are barely an inch high.

More genius-ness…we decide to pick up the barely burning log with the tongs and just take it outside. I run upstairs to open the doors to make it as quick of a process as possible, and I hear, “Honey, we have a small problem.” I run back downstairs and there is a hugely-on fire, previously-oxygen-deprived-log now sitting in the snow-filled bucket, which is probably about to start on fire itself. Oh, did I mention it was a plastic bucket? I dump the pitcher of water on the burning log only to have smoke envelope the whole basement. Way to go, me! Thankfully, amid the smoke and piercing call of the smoke detector (yay, it works!) E runs the bucket/log combo outside and dumps it in the snow.

I start shutting doors to the bedrooms, turn off the furnace, open as many windows and doors as I can, and turn on fans in an attempt to get the smoke out of the house. We clear it out as best as we can, but smoke, being the stinky, penetrating fog that it is, leaves a lingering smell. Oh well. Now we know it’s not the wood. And, as GI Joe says, “Knowing is half the battle.”

We close the windows and doors, laugh about being so darn smart, thank God we didn’t burn down the house or get hurt, and make some dinner. At least we didn’t burn that.

It’s ok:

To dump out the last few bites of vegetable soup and have some M&Ms instead.

To be really happy about the “me time” you had over the weekend, and maybe wish you had some a little more often.

That Mondays aren’t your most productive days - there are four more work days in the week.

To cry at sappy made-for-tv-movies even if you didn’t watch it from the beginning and aren’t really sure what the plot is.

To be in a rush to go home even if your goal is to lie on the couch and watch bad tv.

To celebrate Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day by annoyingly popping a couple sheets of bubble wrap.

To feel proud about the emails you sent to your Senators letting them know your opinions.

Saturday morning, E received a call to go snowmobiling with some friends. I encouraged him to go, and I used the day to paint an accent wall in the living room. It turned out perfectly - exactly the way I wanted it to look. I am so happy with the color. One bad thing: I am the messiest painter! I had to do a lot of touch-up work on the ceiling and trim. Oops.

E decided the spend the night with the snowmobiling friends. Yay - more alone time! I went to church, then to TJ Maxx (What? Doesn’t everyone go shopping after church?) where I found the most perfect new spring/summer bag. I came home and cleaned up my painting mess. Then I had waffles for dinner. Because I could.

Sunday morning, I got up and went to the store for some groceries. I stopped to get a coffee and my car washed.  Then came home and cleaned some more…E’s mom/her husband were coming over. E made it home and said he loved the newly-painted wall. He had a great time snowmobiling. That is good because it means he will probably go again soon.

We went out to lunch w/ E’s mom/husband - had a nice time. Did a little shopping, and came home. I tried a scone recipe (never made them before) and they turned out very tasty. Now I’m thinking about getting my VISA bill paid (yuck), and wishing I made more money.

Besides that it was a super weekend.

One thing I noticed about the new work group - I will be the best-dressed one there. A former co-worker in my current job said I inspired her to think about what she was wearing and try to put better outfits together. Yay! So maybe I can have that kind of impact on the new group. I would be very flattered. One thing I don’t think I will ever understand is too-short pants on average height women (like me). If anything, I often have to get my pants hemmed. So how does someone my height end up with pants that are 2-3 inches too short?

Another thing is that the floors need to vacuumed! Bits of paper are everywhere. This group just moved to this building, so I can understand some moving mess, but still. AND I met the cleaning guy. He was on his way out and toting a vacuum. I wanted to say something to him, but thought I should maybe be IN the job first. And the cleaning guy also does hair. I know! He owned a salon, then moved away, then moved back, is now working at a salon (when he’s not cleaning), and hopes to open his own again some day. Yes, I heard the whole story.

It will be interesting.

Starting with you, the reader of this blog…My, what lovely eyes you have. I see them gazing intently at the computer screen as you read…so focused. Beautiful!

I bowl on Wednesday evenings with a group of friends. It’s our weekly girls’ night out, and we have a good time.

I have a love/hate relationship with bowling. Often I am found asking, “And I PAY for this torture?!” The bowling isn’t always so great, but it’s a good time - lots of gossip, great ladies, and a couple of drinks to round out the night.

It’s my night to hang with friends, and E’s night to have some “E time” alone.

I have the shoes, the ball, and an average of about 120. And that is where I’ll be this evening.

PS. Extra points for understanding the title reference.

Youthful skin.

Building snow forts and having snowball fights with my brothers.

Being able to jump rope for the whole length of recess.

Being single and living alone (sometimes).

My new purse and favorite had that were stolen last winter.

The one job where all of the employees were my friends.

Pushing Daisies and Chuck - my two favorite new shows.

Saturday morning cartoons.

Reading books for pleasure. (I’m trying to bring that back)

Crazy story of the day:

I did my spinning class this morning - like any normal Friday morning. I finished class, hit the showers, got ready, and was packing up. I opened my little jewelry travel case to get my watch and earrings, pulled out my watch and noticed only one earring. One!

These earrings were a gift from my mom a few years ago. Tiny diamond studs - probably not high value, but they’re important to me.

Needless to say, I became a little (lot!) worried and started searching for the missing earring thinking maybe it fell out at some point. I looked all over the locker, in the lower locker, in the jewelry case, in my shoes, on the floor, took everything out of my bag and shook it out, brushed off my clothes in case it fell on me. And then I searched all of those things again. And again.

I got a little frantic, but also hopeful that maybe I dropped it at home and it never made it in the jewelry case at all. I finally asked St Anthony (patron saint of lost things - yes, I’m Catholic) to help me out, along with a “Please, God”. And I started checking everything over again. I opened the jewelry case and there are two earrings in there. Two! Where there was only one before. Thank you, God! Really, how do you explain that? I can’t. This little case is NOT big, and it doesn’t have pockets or anything. I KNOW there was only one earring before.

Have some hope in small miracles.

I think it will be a really cool job, but super-busy. I will be working with the community and community leaders, lots of event-planning, and an team of awesome people. I’m excited.

Otherwise, though, I’m in a bit of a funk and the bad/stupid stuff seems to be magnified. I spilled some cereal on my shirt becomes **sobbing mess** Waaahhhh I spilled ceerreeeallll on myyyyyyyyyyy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirt! Life as we know it is over.

I am still waffling about cutting my hair off. The amount of it that ends up in the sink during morning styling-time is shockingly bad. When I have short hair, I don’t have to do so much to it (blow-drying, ironing, etc) so it doesn’t stress it out so much. I have fragile hair. But then I think, just til the wedding and then you can cut it all off if you want. Did I mention I have no patience, and I am supposed to practice more patience in 2008? So maybe this is my big test.

I’m also worried I’m going to be an ugly bride and people will go home and talk for YEARS about how horrible my dress was, and how bad my hair looked, and that my shoes were stupid. I’ll be written into bridal history books as how NOT to do it.

See what I mean about the magnifying?

I wanna bitch about my hair. The hair I’ve been trying to grow out for months now to have options on ‘dos for my wedding. It gets to a certain length and does this weird twisty-half-curl thing where one side flips out/forward and the other flips under. I have to straighten the heck out of it to get it to behave. Well, today, as I commented on Sizzle’s blog, if I had a style in mind, and an appointment, I would be in my stylists’ chair as soon as I could get there. I have had short hair for about 12 years now. I can rock the short hair look. It is always a style, and it looks good on me. I hate when some people have long hair and it just hangs there, or they always wear it in a pony-tail. Where’s the style? Where’s the effort? I miss short hair. Who am I trying to kid with this growing-out crap anyway?

I wanna bitch about my skin. Ok, not about my skin so much… More specifically that I have to go to the dermatologist tomorrow morning. The last time I went, my doctor found an “abnormal mole” and now I have to go back every year to make sure I don’t have more “abnormal moles” or worse, skin cancer. Damn you, tanning beds! I’ve learned my lesson.

I wanna bitch about all the newbies in my lunch time class. They make it so crowded, we have to watch how we do sumo-squats to make sure we’re not stepping on someone or hitting them with the body bar. Doesn’t anyone start resolutions mid-year? Really, isn’t Independence Day a nice day to “free” yourself from all of your bad habits? Why January 1? Go away.

I wanna bitch about flowers. Specifically, whoever’s idea it was that everyone and their brother need corsages and boutonnières at my wedding. Really? Do THAT MANY people need flowers at MY wedding? Really? I don’t even want flowers.

Phew. I feel better. Hey, it’s Monday…add your own bitch if you feel like it. Even a beer bitch, because really, that wouldn’t be so bad either.

One is a job I think would be a lot of fun, get me involved and exposed (not that way!) to a lot of new people and experiences. I know the person I would be working for and she’s cool. I know I can do the job, and also be able to expand it into something more. But it’s more of a lateral move, and I’m probably at a point where I deserve a promotion. I’ve been assured I would get a raise, and the job could be re-positioned at a higher level. This job would nicely round out my experience at this company - I would have worked in 3 different areas of a department. This would give me a wide range of skills that could transfer nicely into a different job here, or outside of the company.

The other would be similar to what I’m doing now, and maybe more of a leadership role without having people directly report to me. Also, I think, for this job, I have been requested by one of the higher-ups. Hard to say no to that. And it would likely be a promotion and more money. And perhaps lead to bigger opportunities. However, I’m really not sure I will like the job, or the people I’ll be leading/guiding/coaching. And how much pissiness will I get from them, and do I have to deal with it on my own or will their be help from someone with more clout? Also, it seems like I am being pushed towards this job to fulfill a favor to someone else. I hate that.

I am the kind of person who needs to like my job. I like to work with fun people. Really, I’m spending nearly a third of my life at this place, I want to semi-enjoy it if not fully-enjoy it. Money matters, but my happiness usually wins out. I haven’t been in a position where I’ve been offered a whole buttload of money, either, though, so that would be maybe a tougher decision.

So, I guess I’ll give it some thought.

PS. I changed my header, obviously. I’ve been dreaming of a tropical vacation lately. This was taken a little over a year ago when I was in Cabo San Lucas. *sigh*

E and I had a good talk last night over dinner. I told him I was frustrated that when I asked about his ex and he didn’t answer it made me wonder what he was hiding. I said that I respected that he might not want to talk about her, and I sure didn’t want him to go around talking about her - oh the ex did this so well, or the ex was so great about that. And I respected him enough to not go running to his mom to ask. (I have a feeling his mom would be willing to share probably more than I wanted to know.) I said that if he still didn’t want to talk about her then that was fine, I just wanted to let him know how it looked from my end.

He said that he understood, and asked if there was something in particular I wanted to know. I asked why they broke up. I was curious if it was something he did that I should watch out for or something she did that I can avoid doing myself. He said they were kind of growing apart and neither really seemed willing to work at bringing them back together. And she really wanted a family, and he wasn’t going to have a baby to try to solve the relationship issues. (Bravo!!!)

So there you have it. Phew. All that time wasted thinking about it.  So we went for a walk after dinner (50-some degree weather in January!), and had a nice evening.

I loved reading what others wrote in his book. The references to the crazy parties, and the Friday nights, and the girls. Especially, the entries FROM the girls. I’d read them and say things to him like, Dayna is sorry that you two ignored each other so long and a part of her will always love you. Or, Lynn thinks you’re weird but still a cool guy. We had some laughs over it all.

Then I discovered that the ex (THE ex) was in his yearbooks. I thought, Duh! Kind of. I was fairly sure they had known each other at least since high school, but didn’t think much about it. So I studied her picture. Have I mentioned that I met this girl before? I KNOW what she looks like. It was kind of stupid to pore over a nearly-20-year-old picture of her.

But, once again, I can’t stop thinking about her. What was she like? Was she funny? Did she do kinky things in bed? Why do I care? WHY DO I CARE? It’s over. I’m the one with the ring on my finger symbolizing E’s commitment to ME. She’s the one with the husband and child. Who still sends Christmas cards to E’s family and Happy Birthday emails to E.

I am mature. I am not a psycho. I am the kind of person who takes the high road. Ok, that’s what I tell myself. Yes, I’ll get over it. She’s just been popping up more often than I’d like in the past month.

It didn’t help that E and I had a little something this morning. No, not THAT something. It wasn’t a fight. Not even an argument. It was a:
Me: You should do this.
Him: (Hand on forehead ala Scarlett O’Hara) Oh God, that’s going to take FOR. EVER.
Me:  (Annoyed because it’s easier to just DO it) Ok, well you have a good day. Quick kiss, then I go do that thing that’s going to take FOR. EVER. In about 5 minutes.
Him: (As I’m doing said thing) Honey, if blah blah blah blah, then I can blah blah blah.
Me: (curtly) HONEY. Maybe you should just let me do it.

What if something happened today, and that was the way I left it? I hate that. And, yes, if this is the worst I have to complain about then I am doing just fine.

Oh well, such is Monday.

Last night it was specialty pizza night. We arrived home after an appointment with our realtor and I called to order the pizza. It was a few minutes before 7pm. The person taking the order said it would be about an hour. They usually give us about 45 minutes and it’s at the house in about 30, so we figured an hour wasn’t too bad. Twenty minutes after 8pm (nearly 1 hour and 20 minutes after ordering!) I called the pizza place to see if maybe our order had just gotten dropped. The person on the phone said, No, it just left. I almost cancelled. When I am hungry, as I was at that point, I get really cranky. I stayed calm, and just chilled by myself for a few minutes.

Another 25 minutes later (1 hour and 45 minutes after ordering!) the pizza arrived. At that point, it was so late I didn’t want to stuff my face with pizza, so I passed. E opened the box to get his pizza and then I hear him on the phone. Not only was the pizza barely warm (seriously), it was the WRONG PIZZA! I am laughing as I think about how ridiculous it was.

When he got off the phone I asked if they even apologized and he said No. I said, THAT makes me mad. Why are people so unwilling to accept responsibility for their mistakes? Just a simple, “I’m sorry. I screwed up.” makes me feel a lot better.

The person E talked to on the phone couldn’t even find our order at first, then tried to claim we ordered wrong (we order the same damn thing every time!), then asked if E wanted to talk to the manager. No! I want the manager to hire competent people who have the authority to fix their mistake themselves.

What is wrong with customer service? I worked retail and I know it can suck. But I also know that talking on the phone (or texting your friends) is not more important than the customer in front of you. I know it’s easy to make mistakes, but it usually makes everyone feel better if you just own up and apologize. I know that the customer can be wrong, but it really doesn’t matter. I know that I can be a very loyal customer, but if you dick it up too many times I’m going to go elsewhere.